


Just The Two Of Us

by 09cityskylights



Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Canada, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fun Adventures, Gallavich, Gallavich Fandom - Freeform, Happy times, Hotel, Ian and Mickey - Freeform, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mickey/Ian - Freeform, New Things, Pride, Some Serious Times Too, Toronto, Travel, Vacation, cute stuff, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/09cityskylights/pseuds/09cityskylights
Summary: Mickey reluctantly agrees to go on a trip Ian has won to the World Pride Festival in Toronto.*pictures used at the of the chapters are not mine, credit goes to owners, they just help give visuals to the story* :)





	1. Caller No. 47

**Author's Note:**

> I am actually very familiar with Toronto having lived here a long time, World Pride did take place in Toronto a couple years ago. The places are real, no characters that may be written in are. Details about the real places are as accurate as possible unless I had to alter them. Written from either boys perspective or third person, will have multiple chapters :) 
> 
> -Written by an LGBTQ ally <3

“ _Jesus_ , how long is that kid gonna be?” Mickey runs a hand across his stomach gingerly, wincing slightly. He is leaning up against Ian’s long legs while they lie back on his small bed that they so often share in the Gallagher home. Ian is scrawling in his battered school notebook, catching up on an overdue English assignment. Some annoying pop song is blaring from the radio in Debbie’s room and the sound drifts easily into the boys’ room.

Ian answers his question with a slight snort distractedly, “It’s _Carl_ , he’s probably choking the chicken. Go downstairs”. His eyes don’t leave his notebook, but he chews the end of his pen thoughtfully before he writes another line.

“I don’t think you’d want me to, considering it won’t flush half the time” Mickey warns. Ian just laughs. Fiona had figured that if tips were good at work for the next two weeks they could afford a plumber to come take a look at the failing downstairs toilet. The cheap radio in the other room switches to a stream of ads.

“Win a trip for two to the World Pride Festival this year in Toronto Ontario! Flight and hotel package included for our lucky winners! Just call in and caller number forty-seven will win this great opportunity!” the overenthusiastic radio announcer informs them cheerfully.

Ian’s green eyes immediately flicker up from his notebook, and he pokes Mickey excitedly with his ballpoint pen. “What?” Mickey grumbles, leaning back to look at the offender.

“A free trip, World Pride!” Ian repeats, his voice strongly suggesting that he’s interested.

“What are they proud of?” Mickey asks distractedly, pulling grey lint from his sweater. “Jesus Mick. The LGBTQ Pride Festival! How as a gay man have you not heard of that, honestly?” Ian shakes his head in disbelief and pulls up his battered cellphone to start punching in the numbers the announcer is relaying to his unseen audience.

“Ay! Ay, no, no!” Mickey notices what Ian is doing and tries to wrestle the phone away from Ian’s bigger hands. “It’s free Mickey! And its fun.” Ian’s ginger eyebrows are raised in delight at his slightly older boyfriend’s flailing arms. His brother Carl then enters the room, apparently finished with the washroom, and looks from boy to boy while they are sprawled out over each other, wrestling for the cellphone on the small bed.

“You guys need me to close the door? I can come back later,” he offers in his now lower voice uncertainly, hesitating before entering the room any further.

Even though Carl is very used to spending time around his older siblings and their partners, he still finds overt signs of affection awkward to be around sometimes. He’s walked in on each of them more than once, unintentionally, and always moans that he is scarred for life before hurrying away.

Mickey shakes his dark head emphatically, “No”, and then addresses Ian, “Put the phone down asshole. I gotta use the bathroom like _now_ … fucking Taco Bell, man” Mickey sighs sharply, points a finger at his boyfriend as if to strengthen his command, then gets up from the bed and backs out of the room that way, moving hastily towards the finally unoccupied bathroom.

Carl’s amused eyes shift to his older brother. “What’s that about?” he grins, nodding in the direction that Mickey had disappeared in. Ian shrugs good naturedly, “I was trying to call in to win some prize to a gay pride thing in Toronto. Free trip. Mick’s not into that sort of thing, but it’s not like we would win anyways”. Ian’s focus has returned to his notebook.

Carl’s mouth spreads to even more of a Cheshire cat-like grin, and he pulls out his cellphone. “Two phones are better than one” he says to his older brother playfully, shaking his cellphone in his hand suggestively. Ian looks up, smirks, and starts dialing numbers into his phone again.

Mickey is still hunched over the toilet several minutes later, flipping through an old target magazine to pass the time when someone starts banging impatiently on the door. “Jesus, can’t anyone shit here in peace?” he demands, annoyed. There were way too many people in this damn house for only having one fully functional washroom.

“ _Ew, gross_!” it’s Debbie’s voice. He’d flip her off but she can’t see him anyways. He hears her retreating back to her room quickly, complaining loudly about having to share the bathroom with yet **another** boy. Mickey at this point sort of is an extra brother. Some lady gaga song on her stupid radio comes to an end and the annoying announcer is back.

“You are caller number forty-seven and you have won our trip to the World Pride celebrations in Toronto, Ontario! Congratulations lucky winner! What’s your name?”

Mickey’s focus has fallen back down onto his crumpled magazine until he hears the next speaker. “Sweet, no way. My name’s uh, Ian Gallagher” the voice drawls smugly.

Mickey’s blue eyes just about pop out of his damn skull. It’s Carl’s voice but he realizes what’s been going on during his absence.

Fucking Gallaghers!

 

^ why Carl helps xD


	2. Toronto, Canada?

“Oh, _hell_ no!” Mickey hollers loudly from the porcelain throne, and starts scrambling to wipe his ass and pull up his pants.

He charges like a bull back into the boy’s shared bedroom just moments later and sees Carl and Ian collapsed onto Ian’s bed, laughing in disbelief and delight.

“You shit, what did you do that for? Cause you’ll be the one going with him!” Mickey threatens, throwing his tattooed hands upwards, making it clear he will have NOTHING to do with this.

“Why,” Carl drawls, “it’s in Ian’s name and he’s obviously gonna take you”. “No, he ain’t, I’m not going” Mickey says firmly, cracking his knuckles at the younger boy.

“You’re his boyfriend” Carl says back dumbly, as if that settles the issue.

Ian intercepts the conversation, “Mick I honestly didn’t even think we had a chance of getting it. But it’s a free trip! When will we ever get a chance like this again?” Ian begs, looking up at his boyfriend eagerly. Mickey sees he is completely serious about this.

He also sees how joyful Ian looks, his eyes are bright and shining. It’s a look that since his Bipolar diagnosis, Mickey always appreciates seeing on his boyfriend even more than he used to, although he once didn’t think that was even possible.

“You serious about this?” Mickey decides to confirm anyways, hoping Ian might say it’s a joke, or that no he doesn’t actually want to go.

Ian looks up with intentional puppy dog eyes, “Yes”.

“ _Jesus_ ” … Mickey sighs, and crosses his arms. “…Alright. If that’s want you want, we’ll go”.

Ian leaps up from his low, rumpled bedspread and grabs his shorter boyfriend into his long arms, squeezing him in a tight and grateful hug.

“Look, we don’t have to spend the whole time at the Pride thing. Frank’s been to Toronto before, he said it was pretty neat. We can explore the city a bit. It’ll be just the two of us” Ian bargains, trying to compromise.

That sounds a little more reasonable to Mickey, although the whole idea still sits unsteadily with him. He’s never really travelled anywhere before, and he’s never been in a plane either- and he had wanted to keep that second fact static.

Before he can say anything else, Fiona hollers from the bottom of the stairs, “LASAGNA”.

Carl and Ian, both used to being summoned for dinner in this manner, dart out of the room and down the stairs towards the kitchen eagerly. Mickey is not far behind, although he hangs back slightly at the bottom of the stairs while the Gallaghers spin about the kitchen in a flurry, loading up plates, dropping them in front of younger siblings, pouring drinks.

Although he usually outwardly acts annoyed at the commotion in his boyfriend’s home, deep down he sort of likes being here during it, feeling like he is a part of it. The Gallagher home is filled with more than just people, the love and loyalty here is abundant, a pleasant change from what Mickey was used to in his own home.

Debbie holds a plate out towards him expectantly, noticing he is the only one who hasn’t started digging in yet and he takes it from her hands. He glances over to where Ian is standing, obviously waiting for the right moment to share his exciting news. Ian takes his glance as a signal that the time is now.

“Guys, you’ll never believe it”. Carl shakes his head and grins, adding, “You really won’t”. Ian is still looking at Mickey breathlessly after he speaks and the rest of the family looks from Ian to Mickey and then back again, curiously. “What?” Fiona finally prompts, her large brown eyes crinkling slightly with concern.

Ian shakes his head at her unnecessary worry, “It’s good news. Mick and I are going to Toronto”. Lip pauses with his fork parked directly in front of his mouth, raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Like, Toronto _Canada_?”

The entire family is seated now except for Mickey who is standing by the kitchen counter, one hand on the spatula resting in the lasagna.

”Yes, _Toronto Canada_ ” Ian rolls his eyes at the question but then smiles again, “We won a trip there, everything’s included. It’s for World Pride”. Lip then turns his amused gaze onto Mickey,

“World Pride? You’re going to World Pride?”

Mickey dumps a thick and generous slice of lasagna onto his plate, “Not my idea”.

“I helped” Carl smirks, and shoves a large forkful of food into his open mouth. “That’s fantastic!” Fiona drops her hands to her thighs and looks at Ian and then at Mickey excitedly, “When are you going??”

“Two weeks” Ian answers happily. Yeah, two fucking weeks Mickey thinks, less than enthused.

 


	3. Big Jet Plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a shorter chapter because of exams!  
> Also the rating of this story will change to mature within the next few chapters, because hey it's Ian and Mickey. Some chapters will have more 'mature' content than others haha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after the song Big Jet Plane by Angus & Julia Stone. I attached some altered lyrics at the end because I listened to the song while I wrote this chapter, and it sort of fits it rather well!

All Ian does for the next two weeks is talk excitedly about the trip, although he does try to quell his excitement a little bit when he notices that Mickey gets a little quieter whenever it’s brought up.

He has a sneaking suspicion that Mickey is actually just nervous about the trip, but he doesn’t want to openly insinuate that Mickey is scared - of anything. That’s sure as hell never gone over well in the past. He tries broaching the issue gently a few times, but Mickey always changes the subject pretty quickly. Ian eventually decides to drop it, feeling it’s best to let Mickey come around and talk about whatever's going on when and if he wants to. Although knowing Mickey, he probably never will.

By the time they arrive at the packed Chicago airport a fortnight later with their bags packed, the whole Gallagher family seeming to find it necessary to drop them off, Mickey is looking slightly green. Still, he’s determined to suck it up and get through this stupid trip for his boyfriend’s sake.

Debbie and Fiona are excited and jealous about them getting to go on a free trip anywhere, and urge them to mail a postcard back home and take lots of pictures, while Ian’s brothers just seem to find the whole thing fucking hilarious.

Mickey has no doubt in his mind that their amusement is due to his own obvious discomfort about the trip. They probably think it’s because he’s still somewhat closeted or reserved about his sexuality, which okay, maybe was a fair assumption, but really, it was about more than that. But he sure as hell wouldn’t admit any time soon that he’s fucking terrified to be in a plane, that’s for damn sure.

The rest of the Gallagher family waves the two away happily once they finish their goodbye hugs, and the boys line up for baggage check and customs. The intense airport security heightens Mickey’s agitation, even though he’s doing nothing illegal (currently), he’s all too familiar with being the guy that ‘poses a security risk’.

He passes through security first without any issue though, much to his relief (and surprise), and looks back into the crowd behind him until he sees Ian’s tall red head appear, coming through the metal scanner next. Ian smiles at him reassuringly and leads the way to their assigned gate.

Before he knows it they are on the plane and standing in front of their assigned seats. Fuck.

“Window or aisle?” Ian asks his boyfriend cheerfully. Mickey hasn’t said anything in a while, and just screws up his mouth a little bit and shakes his head, indicating that it doesn’t matter.

 Ian gestures to the seats and lets Mickey slide in first to the window seat. It means a lot to him that Mickey is doing this, Ian can tell how uncomfortable he is with the entire situation. But he also knows Mickey would do anything for him.

Everyone always said how lucky Mickey was to have Ian. Ian knew he was an attractive man, but Mickey was beautiful too in his own and completely different way.

And Mickey always put Ian first, no matter how hard it was for him. Ian wasn’t always the easiest guy to be around, especially during his bipolar episodes. He recognized that about himself. He felt like he was lucky to have Mickey too, and made a mental note to start saying that next time any of his family members or friends alluded to the fact that he was ‘dating beneath him’.

He looks over at Mickey while the plane is preparing for takeoff and notices his knuckles are white from gripping his knees so hard, the black lettering on his fingers now looking even more stark in contrast.

He had actually listened very carefully during all of the safety procedures the flight attendant had demonstrated for the cabin, something Ian couldn’t help but find amusing earlier.

But now he just feels protective, and its sort of a nice change of pace for him.

 In Mickey and Ian’s relationship, Mickey, no matter what the situation, always looked out for Ian like it was the only thing that mattered to him. But now he was the one who needed to be taken care of, whether he would admit to it or not.

With this thought still in his mind, Ian leans over and kisses his tense boyfriend gently on the forehead, and puts his large hand over Mickey’s two (now tightly clasped together) hands while the plane rises shakily but steadily into the air.

 

_Be my lover, my river  
Can I take ya, take ya higher_

_Gonna take him for a ride on a big jet plane_  
_Gonna take him for a ride on a big jet plane_

_Hey hey  
_

_Gonna hold ya, gonna kiss ya in my arms_  
_Gonna take ya away from harm_

_Gonna take you for a ride in a big jet plane_

(Big Jet Plane- Angus & Julia Stone)


	4. Sick Mick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had this chapter pre-written at the same time as the last one so decided to post it today instead of waiting a couple days like I usually try to lol :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vote for Noel in EOnline's Alpha Male Madness 2017 contest! :) We have until Sunday to get him to the next round!

About twenty minutes after the plane has accelerated and steadied into the air Ian is still leaning past Mickey to peer out the small airplane window at the minuscule sights below. He wonders vaguely if he could see his house from up this high, it must be somewhere there in the distance…. Mickey suddenly lets out an uneasy burp and it yanks Ian out of his thoughts.

He glances back and notices Mickey now looks pale and sweaty. He recognizes seeing that exact look on Liam’s face, (who sometimes gets carsick) when he’s about to throw up in the car. Ian quickly reaches into the back of the seat in front of him and pulls out an airsickness bag, opens it, and offers it to Mickey.

Mickey snatches the bag from Ian’s hands and barely gets it to his face before he starts retching. He looks mortified, his blue eyes are wide and locked directly into the back of the seat in front of him.

An older, well dressed gentleman sitting across the aisle from them sniffs disapprovingly while Mickey empties his stomach into the bag noisily. Ian looks over and shoots him a dirty look while rubbing Mickey’s back tenderly and the old man suddenly pretends to be very interested in his golfing magazine. He’s lucky Mick’s currently incapacitated, Ian thinks, or he'd definitely have an expletive thrown his way.

“It’s okay Mick, it’s not a long flight. I’m here” Ian says quietly, soothingly.

He hands the soiled bag once Mickey is finished being sick to the perky flight attendant who arrives shortly at their seats, her attention grabbed by Mickey’s retching.

Her polished hand offers a clean bag to Ian which he takes, thinking Mickey might need another before long. Mickey actually looks like a small, sad child at this point, a look Ian had rarely seen on his south-side thug before. It would be funny if he didn’t feel so bad for him.

“Can we get a shot of whiskey please?” Ian whispers to the attendant. She checks Mickey’s ID that Ian fishes out of his wallet for him and returns with a generous shot a few moments later.

She smiles kindly at the two of them. “Is he okay?” she asks, nodding her auburn head lightly in Mickey’s direction with concern, who now has one hand tightly squeezing the bridge of his pale nose and the other hand locked onto his armrest in a death grip.

For once Mickey doesn’t speak for himself, so Ian considers him for a second. It’s so unlike Mick to not throw up even a casual middle finger once questioned, but maybe he’s just trying to behave himself.

“I think he’s just…anxious?” Ian suddenly realizes this is probably why Mickey hadn’t wanted to come on this trip. “Too bad he can’t smoke a joint, chill out. Helps with nausea too,” Ian jokes, but when he sees her eyes widen slightly he makes that clear, “…joking”.

Mickey HAD actually wanted to smoke a joint outside of the Chicago airport before they went inside but decided against it, thinking that the security guards might pull him aside if the smell lingered on his clothes. He didn’t want to get delayed and miss the fucking flight and be the reason Ian didn’t get his trip, so he shoved the homemade joint he had brought with him at Lip to take back home before they left the family standing there, waving goodbye enthusiastically. Lip had taken it gladly.

Ian pushes the glass of whiskey into Mickey’s sweaty hand. Mickey tips it back, pouring it all down his throat at once, feeling a slow burn travelling downwards. He shudders when he’s done, his stomach considering whether it will accept this offering or not. After a moment it seems it will, and he finally rests his head gently against Ian’s shoulder, breathing out slowly.

He looks considerably better after a little while, and his breathing steadies and slows again. Ian pops his headphones in carefully and then doesn’t move again, staying as still as he can so Mickey can just sleep during the flight.

Mickey only wakes up when the plane starts descending, and he startles, jumping in his seat, blue eyes darting around wildly until he realizes where he is again. Ian grabs and squeezes his tattooed hand firmly until it’s time for them to get off of the plane.

As soon as they reach the tarmac Ian pulls a smoke out of his coat pocket and hands it to Mickey, who jams it into his mouth immediately without a word. After several long drags he finally speaks, groggily, “Thanks”. It’s the first thing he’s said in a couple hours. He says it with genuine appreciation. "No problem", Ian is just glad he thought of it. 

“So this is Canada” Mickey says a while later around his lit cigarette, looking around and gesturing with his hand. His color is much better now. “Yeah, I guess it is”, Ian beams at him. “Doesn’t look like much” Mickey replies doubtfully. “Well we’re just at the airport” Ian reasons, “wait until we get into the actual city”. He looks around uncertainly until he spots an Indian taxi driver holding a sign that says “Gallagher” on it.

“There’s our car to the hotel”.

Mickey stops dead in his tracks and looks at Ian with the utmost amusement, “You a fucking celebrity or something Ian? When were you gonna tell me I’m a fucking groupie?” Ian laughs emphatically and shakes his orange head. “It’s part of the prize package Mick. Let’s go”.

Mickey seems to get more interested as they drive into the city, his curious eyes actually following the heights of the striking buildings to their rooftops as he looks out the window. He actually looks impressed and as if he is maybe enjoying himself as he lights a cigarette, until the taxi driver turns and shakes his long brown finger in Mickey’s face.

“No smoke in car!”

“Want me to break that finger?” Mickey growls back, and the driver frowns but turns his eyes back to the road.

Mickey is definitely feeling back to normal. 

 

Some of the sights Mickey would be checking out ^ :)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picture Mickey when he is 'sick and scared' looking like he did in the episode where Ian says "he isn't afraid to kiss me" and Mickey just looks down, uncomfortable and sadly.


	5. 'Theee fucking Grand'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys arrive at their hotel. Mild smut in the classic Shameless style.

“Here. Grand. This your hotel” the taxi driver eventually says, still obviously somewhat irked by Mickey smoking in his cab. He pulls in front of a white brick hotel, with a wide sweeping royal red staircase and ornate railings leading up to it’s entrance. There are large metal letters balanced above it’s threshold, announcing its name proudly.

A smartly dressed doorman pulls open the glass door as they come up the steps slowly. He holds it, waiting expectantly. Mickey and Ian exchange glances.

“Welcome to the Grand” the bellman says, nodding his neatly combed blonde head respectfully at the hotel guests. “Uh, thanks” Mickey says awkwardly. They step inside and both raise their eyebrows in surprise.

The hotel is lovely inside with lofty white ceilings, large columns and walls composed of marble and other stones. Expensive flowers are balanced delicately in glass vases, and a massive glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling greets their impressed eyes. “ _Theee fucking Grand_ ” Mickey whistles appreciatively as they reach the front desk, and he slaps the counter firmly with both hands.  

The hotel clerk looks up at them expectantly.

Ian addresses her once Mickey doesn’t.

 “Gallagher? I, we I mean, we won a prize. 91.7 FM Pride thing?” Ian motions with his hands, waiting for the magic words to appear that would accurately convey what he was trying to get across.

Finally it clicks, and the hotel clerk nods her head enthusiastically, “Oh yes. Congratulations! Your room is on the eighth floor, you have a deluxe couple’s suite. There is a pool is downstairs, as well as a gym. To access the rooftop hot tub go to the top floor, and there is a separate elevator to the right that reaches the rooftop. Meals are covered in our own Citrus restaurant as part of your exclusive deal. Oh, and a gift package is upstairs in your room, courtesy of the radio station” she adds at last, smiling.

 Ian nods the whole time she speaks while Mickey just stares as if she is speaking Chinese, and finally they are handed a room key.

 They take the fully mirrored elevator the clerk had pointed out to them up to the eighth floor and walk the finely carpeted hallway, looking for their room number. It’s the nicest place either of them thinks they have ever been in, other than possibly one of Ian’s engineer friend’s condos. But this was an entire hotel.

They eventually find a door with their room number plated on it, and push open the heavy door once it accepts their key and flashes green.

It’s impeccably clean inside.

 A large flat screen TV and a sleek black couch are closest to the door, and as they come around the corner they find a small kitchenette with a metal bar fridge and brand new looking appliances placed on the smooth countertop. A dark wooden writing desk rests against a wall.

Mickey pushes open the bathroom door once they reach the end of the large suite and a large jacuzzi style tub, a walk-in shower, and pristine white counters and sinks greet them. The boys nod at each other with mock grandeur before leaving the bathroom.

Last but not least, their impressed eyes fall mutually onto an expensive king size bed with fluffy snow white sheets, fat pillows, and a thick comforter.

Perched atop the massive bed is a huge woven gift basket with a small pile of contest papers in front of it, as well as a map of Toronto. A prepaid credit card is there too, with a decent spending budget allotted to them for the next few days.

Mickey starts to pull items out of the basket one by one, inspecting each item and then offering them up for Ian’s own consideration playfully.

 Red wine, chocolates from a gourmet chocolatier shop (one of which Mickey immediately pops into his mouth), a CD of love ballads, assorted non-perishable snacks, dried fruits….and lastly, a large bottle of lube and massive box of Trojan condoms. Mickey picks them up and grins, “Finally, something useful”.

“Oh, look who is suddenly happy we came on this trip” Ian teases.

“Shut up, bitch” Mickey says, but his tone is more than affectionate. He lifts the basket off of the bed fluidly with one arm and drops it onto the floor with an unceremonious thud. “Shall we break this place in? Make it south side dirty?” he says, raising one eyebrow seductively at Ian.

 Ian rolls his shoulders and shifts out of his light jacket while he kicks off his shoes, his smile and the glint in his eyes making his answer clear.

Ian reaches out for Mickey once his jacket hits the dark wood floor and they begin kissing. Slowly, and then more heatedly, with their hands gripped tightly onto each others strong and muscular arms.

Ian can still taste the sweet chocolate that was just in Mick’s mouth as he swirls he tongue against his boyfriend’s. They fall onto the bed together, each grinning into the kiss as their noses rub against each other. They don’t take their searching lips off of each other and begin peeling off their clothes the best they can without coming apart.

Finally, the boys have to separate to take off their jeans.

“Hand me the lube” Ian pants, more than ready to start. Mickey is already positioning himself steadily on all fours on top of the spotless comforter when he hears the request. He tosses back the bottle of lube first and then holds the box of condoms back behind him expectantly, waiting for Ian to take it.

Ian smacks the box of condoms out of his hands roughly to the floor and squirts lube into his hand liberally before spreading it onto his cock.

 Mickey glances back at the discarded box of condoms and looks amused, but quickly forgets his amusement and bites his lip when Ian presses his mouth against his ass, opening his mouth to let his hot tongue sneak across Mickey’s asshole. Mickey stiffens in disappointment when Ian pulls his loving mouth away, but Ian is pulling on his hips, trying to reroute Mickey’s direction on the bed.

 “Face the window, look at the view” Ian breathes.

Mickey looks out over the stunning background of the city, appreciating the fantastic view, but when he looks back to see Ian’s reaction to it Ian is just staring down at Mickey’s ass with reverence.

He smirks, “Alright ginger, let’s get our first fuck in Canada going”.  Ian is only too happy to oblige.

^ The fucking Grand :P


	6. South-Side Thugs in the Rainbow Village

“ _Fuuuck_ ”, Mickey groans with satisfaction a while later and grabs a handful of the now soiled comforter, “Do they have laundry in this place? Good thing cum’s white”.

“Mick you don’t do laundry here, the hotel does everything for you” Ian says with amusement, pulling his jeans back up over his lean hips.

“Jesus. Feel sorry for the maid that gets our room”, Mickey shakes his head with fake apology.  

“We’ll just have to tip her extra” Ian laughs.

“Well you give a really good tip” Mickey says coyly, leaning back onto the large bed contentedly. Ian joins him, and pulls him in for an affectionate kiss on the forehead just below his jet-black hair.

Night is now starting to fall slowly over the Canadian city and the two decide to head downstairs for dinner before they fall asleep, content enough to nod off already on the extremely comfortable bed.

They head into the attached Citrus Restaurant from the lobby of the now rather busy hotel. Most guests in the restaurant are now onto their evening drinks and are perched around the bar, but the boys are starving and wave down a waitress for a menu. They choose a solitary table off in the corner for privacy.

Ian nibbles on his lip, reading the menu indecisively, when something across from him catches his eye.

He looks up over the menu card to appreciate the sight of Mickey sitting in flickering candlelight across from him, his deep azure eyes illuminated by the dancing light.

Mickey doesn’t notice Ian looking at him, he’s completely absorbed into his own menu.

A strand of black hair has fallen from it’s gelled and combined-in place and dangles delicately beside his left eye. It’s the only delicate thing about him.

Ian pictures the south side boy he met years ago now, once filthy and constantly explicit, angry and caged in, now sitting at this white tableclothed table, dressed nicely and ordering from a fancy menu. He’s finally happy. Ian smiles. This is an evolved version of that Mickey.

His expletives are now more controlled, his hair more carefully styled, his skin always clean and cologned. He dresses to look good as often as he dresses for comfort.

He’s still filthy though, just in very different sense than he used to be. Ian smiles to himself at this last dirty thought.

The waitress stops by and pulls Ian out of his reverie, “Hello gentleman, how are we this evening?”.

They have to ask the waitress to clarify what half of the items on the menu are (“ _What the fuck is sautéed Cornish hen?_ ") but both end up ordering rare steaks in the end of course.

 Mickey groans appreciatively first when he bites into his steak, “Fuck, man. Trip was worth it for this steak alone”.

He shovels another sawed off piece into his mouth before he’s finished his first, and Ian begins digging into his too. It’s absolutely delicious, and the boys feel as if they are kings on this night.

They sleep more than soundly in their comfortable hotel bed that night, exhausted from a long day and filled with good food. Ian spoons Mickey all night, resting his angular chin on his boyfriend’s warm neck while they sleep, his warm breath landing softly on Mickey’s bare chest as he dreams.

 

 

When they get up in the morning they order room service and their food arrives on covered silver platters. A steel carafe of coffee is provided as well, and orange juice. Mickey’s favorite kind.

Ian finishes his breakfast first and examines the paper map of the city they were given. Sure enough, the radio station had placed them in a hotel that’s within a short walking distance of all the Pride festivities.

Ian is excited to get going, and he hums happily while he gets dressed. Mickey isn’t exactly thrilled about their plans for the day as he buttons up his plaid shirt after breakfast, but he’s not dreading it either.

They hear the festival before they get to it.

Toronto has an entire gay village that sports several LGBTQ oriented clubs, cafes, and shops, with rainbow signs and banners identifying the neighborhood proudly, as well as rainbow crosswalks painted onto the roads in more than one location. Even the chains like Pizza Pizza and Starbucks sport rainbow banners on their doorsteps. The Pride Festival is of course hosted here.

“Is everyone in Toronto gay?” Mickey jokes, eyebrows raised at the colorful sights.

He takes a picture of Ian pretending to skip across one of the rainbow crosswalks on his cellphone and sends it to Fiona who quickly sends back “LOL- laughing out loud and lots of love to you both!”

The closed off city streets are packed with people, vendors, storefront samplers, radio trucks, and large black speakers that blare out upbeat dance music on every corner. The boys are in an ocean of the most diverse group of people they have ever seen. Men and women, young and old, of various sexualities and states of dress, and of all races, are all around them.

Ian is expecting Mickey to make a smart remark but he currently seems to be too overwhelmed by the sights and sounds to actually say anything.

This whole thing may not be Mickey’s scene, but he’s taking in this whole new world with a pretty open mind for Ian’s sake.

They’d both been to Chicago’s Boystown, sure, and Ian used to actually work in a club there but this was at a completely different level. The entire neighborhood was like that club, the Fairy Tale. Ian fucking loves it, but for Mickey it’s a bit much.

Mickey does a dramatic double take when his eyes land on a fully naked old dude dancing in the street without giving a single fuck.

People are laughing and clapping around him, and Mickey tries to jab Ian to look at the spectacle too but he feels empty space where Ian had been standing just moments before.

He looks about himself and sees that Ian’s no longer at his side.

He frowns deeply and scans the crowd, craning his neck for a better view. Ian’s bright red hair (that he usually looks for) doesn’t stand out at all anymore among this literal rainbow of colors and people.

He feels someone grab his arm from behind and Ian’s apparently back, sporting colorful stickers on each of his flushed cheeks. “ _Pride_ ” is on one, “ _Gay AF_ ” is on the other.

Mickey cocks his head, “Really Ian?”

“I got you one too” Ian says, and presses it onto the back of Mickey’s hand.

 “ _Bottom_ ”

Mickey looks away as if he is annoyed but he can’t completely hide his amusement either. It’s a big fucking party here, and it might be different than any party he’s ever been to, but he knows how to fucking party.

(^The permanent rainbow crosswalk where Mickey took a picture of Ian, although Pride wasn't occurring when this picture was taken :) ) 


	7. Bottoms Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE VOTE for Noel (the actor who plays Mickey) for Alpha Male Madness 2017. He is unfortunately dropping fast although we all managed to get him to the final four. You can refresh and revote multiple times :) Let's support this amazing and talented actor to help get him some recognition that he deserves :)
> 
> LINK: http://www.eonline.com/news/845507/alpha-male-madness-2017-vote-in-the-final-4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.eonline.com/news/845507/alpha-male-madness-2017-vote-in-the-final-4
> 
> VOTE FOR NOEL! :D (See chapter summary)

Mickey is fairly complacent with following Ian around as he usually does, as Ian pulls Mickey eagerly through the Pride festival from one booth or store to the next, easily distracted. He only hesitates when Ian suddenly yanks him towards an outdoor stripping pole.

They watch for a few minutes. People from the street are taking turns dancing on it. Most dance casually without much skill, just for fun, but a few are actual dancers and seduce the crowd with their moves, who absolutely eat up the live entertainment.

Mickey knows what Ian is thinking before he even says it, and he knows Ian is comfortable with this sort of thing but Mickey himself never really has been.

He always hated seeing other men flirt with Ian at the Fairy Tale, and threatened at least two off per shift while he would hang back, nursing a drink, just fucking waiting for them to make a move. But he felt like if he wasn’t there while Ian worked, there was no one to protect him from those creeps, or from making stupid decisions.

The stunningly gorgeous African woman currently dancing against the pole suddenly spots the hot redhead in the crowd, watching and doing his own little swaying to the music where he stands, and she motions for him to come up next.

Ian takes a few steps forward readily and then hesitates, looking back at Mickey with an unspoken question in his eyes.

Mickey sighs, knowing he is supposed to tell Ian he’s fine with it. At least it’s in public and for fun, not really for actual stripping purposes…seems harmless enough. And it’s nice that Ian actually considered how Mickey felt about it for once.

He nods his consent at Ian, who enthusiastically takes his place in front of the crowd.

The crowd whistles as soon as Ian reaches the pole, and he plays into it perfectly.

He runs his hands down his chest while looking at nobody in particular, just gazing down at his own amazing body as if he himself is enchanted by it, and then he starts to unbutton his top slowly, building the anticipation.

When he yanks off his shirt and tosses it to the ground the bystanders are exposed to his firm and muscular body, his perfect chest and abs. A collective appreciative sound buzzes loudly from the mass.

More people start crowding around Mickey to watch Ian dance. He crosses his arms uncomfortably, and tries to just focus on Ian.

God, he is fucking beautiful. No doubt about that.

Mickey cocks his head slightly and appreciates the sight of Ian’s ass dipping low before he slides back up against the pole again, straightening out his back and flexing his muscles easily. ‘I can’t believe he’s mine…’ flashes through Mickey’s mind.

“Oh my god I am totally gonna fuck him later” Mickey hears this statement, thinking at first his thoughts have somehow come fucking tumbling out of his mouth without his permission, but then he realizes it’s not his voice who said them. 

He turns stiffly to the person who actually said it, who happens to be directly beside him. “Excuse me?”

“Look at him, he’s on fire. Redheads aren’t usually my type but he’s a definite exception” the tall and fit Asian beside him eyeballs Ian appreciatively, like he’s already visualizing what he wants to do to Ian later.

“Yeah he’s my fucking type too, considering he’s my boyfriend” Mickey says, raising his eyebrows threateningly. The Asian guy turns his attention fully onto Mickey now, does a one over on him and then says, “Oh, you’re his bottom!”

If possible, Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up even higher and he repeats with more emphasis, “ _Excuse_ _me_?”

The man simply grabs Mickey’s hand and taps the sticker Ian had placed there earlier.

Mickey reddens, forgetting his “ _Bottom_ ” sticker had stayed there from earlier.

He rips it off of his hand, “I thought you were just assuming, but yeah. He’s with me” Mickey confirms firmly.

The man shrugs slightly, playfully, “Even if you weren’t wearing the sticker I would have known you were the bottom”.

Mickey’s eyebrows just about leave the general vicinity of his forehead.

“You can fuck right off, I’m not some little bottom _bitch_ ” he says, realizing as the words come out of his mouth that he sounds overly defensive.

This earns a laugh and an apologetic smile back, “I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry. I just meant with an ass that nice, no guy would let it go to waste and not have you bottom”.

Mickey presses his lips into a line as if he is annoyed but he also snorts inwardly to himself.

He told the guy to fuck off and the guy apologized back, and then fucking complimented him.

Fucking Canadians.

Some stereotypes are apparently true.

Speaking of stereotypes, he thinks vaguely to himself that he should try some fresh maple syrup while he is in Canada, drizzled over his favorite, banana pancakes...does the hotel do pancakes he wonders?

His focus quickly zaps back towards Ian as he starts gyrating on the pole, slowly arching his back and gently humping against it. Fuck it’s hot…

Ian gives one last final thrust and then lets go of the pole, doing a fake little bow.

The crowd is loud and appreciative of his entire routine, obviously impressed by his dancing skills. People start to move in towards him to clap him on the back, or say something to him, but then Mickey is there.

“Back off, he’s mine” Mickey hollers over the noise, eyes locked onto Ian's.

The crowd hesitates but then realizes they are a couple, as Ian happily grabs Mickey’s tattooed hand, and do indeed back off, and let the two leave the scene.

 

Ian feels charged and exhilarated from his dancing, enjoying the fun over the actually working aspect of working the pole, and he wants more.

He pulls the map from the radio station out of his pocket and taps on an icon of one of several stages set up throughout the festival.

“Let’s go dance!” he shouts, showing Mickey the map. Mickey stares at him.

Ian stares back.

“Jesus Christ” he grumbles, but then a little more playfully adds, “Alright Gallagher…lead the way”.

(Pride Toronto)


	8. Dance With Me

The boys pass through security checking ID’s before entering a blocked off area that surrounds a pop up stage.

Pop music blares while the current singer croons and dances on stage, dressed in a gold and sparkling outfit. The whole crowd moves and dances together as Ian and Mickey join the throng of people already pulsating to the music.

Colorful spotlights spin off from the stage and inflatable beach balls are thrown around the crowd enthusiastically.

Ian is completely in his element from his days at the Fairy Tale, and curves his tall lean body to the loud music easily, before turning his dark and full eyes onto Mickey,

“Dance with me”.

It’s a demand, not a question.

“I need to be a lot drunker if I’m gonna dance”, Mickey shouts back over the music.

Ian’s face breaks into a smile and he pulls Mickey off to the table selling alcohol.

Sure enough, it takes several beers, but the normally reserved Mickey comes around.

He now dances freely, drunk enough to not give a shit, dipping his own muscular body to the sound the same way Ian does. In such a big crowd, with everyone so exuberant and doing the same thing, he doesn’t feel self conscious anymore.

Ian dances close against his boyfriend, extremely attracted by the sight of Mickey letting loose.

Someone drifting through the crowd throws plastic leis over them and then a tall drag queen with impeccable eye makeup takes off her oversized sunglasses and places them on Mickey, who, to Ian’s surprise and delight, doesn’t protest, and keeps dancing.

They finally leave the stage area several hours later, sweating and intoxicated from the alcohol and the music. And from the sight of each other.

“Let’s go swimming” Mickey murmurs into Ian’s ear, knocking into him slightly as someone pushes past.

Ian nods in agreement, and they leave the village to head back to their hotel.

 

*back at the Grand*

 

Mickey finishes pulling up his navy swim trunks over his thick thighs and then stares at Ian in his.

“What?” Ian asks innocently.

Ian’s swim trunks are made of considerably tighter, and much less, material. He’s not sure whether he should be worried about other men possibly checking Ian out or just appreciate the damn sight. He decides to do the latter, especially because they are no longer in the village, and the two take the elevator down to the indoor pool.

“Holy fuck!” Ian exclaims as they open the doors to the pool room.

Extravagant is the only way to describe it. It has marbled flooring and tall columns; and an ornate glass ceiling is letting light pour down into the pool and onto giant potted tropical plants.

There is a false upper level with railings so you could hypothetically stand over the pool and watch people swim underneath. Large and beautiful paintings are arranged tastefully on all of the walls. It’s stunning.

Mickey pushes Ian forward playfully, and the two of them run to the edge of the pool before cannon-balling into the clear and refreshing water.

They swim laps for a while, and race each other to opposite ends of the pool.

Ian wins almost every time, but Mickey protests that’s only because his arms are so damn long.

The other two hotel guests that were swimming there too for a while finally pack up their things, and head out of the pool room holding hands.

The boys dive underwater again to cross the length of the pool once more.

Mickey comes up first and shakes his head vigorously, letting water droplets fly from his black hair back into the pool.

“I win!” he claims triumphantly, pulling air back into his lungs. But Ian is still underwater, gliding towards him slowly, his body smooth and supple looking under the surface.

Mickey dunks back underwater and pushes off from the wall towards Ian’s long form.

They meet midway underwater, arms reaching out for each other blindly.

Mickey opens his eyes slowly and sees Ian looking into his own.

Their lips come together smoothly, opening and closing silently underwater.

 Ian finally needs to breathe, so he taps Mickey’s cheek and they propel upwards from the tiled pool floor towards sweet air.

As soon as they regain their breath they are kissing again, wet chests pressed against each other, bobbing slightly in the water, feeling weightless.

“Gallagher, you better stop”, Mickey warns into his partner’s lips.

“Why?” Ian says darkly, and knowing damn well why reaches his hand underwater to Mickey’s bathing suit, finding his erection easily.

Mickey hesitates but reaches a hand back towards Ian’s.

“We’ll get kicked out…” he says, eyeing a security camera in the corner of the room.

Ian hauls himself out of the pool. “Bathroom”, he says.

“How about our room tough guy?” Mickey sputters back.

Ian shakes his head, “can’t wait”. He disappears into the bathroom and Mickey pulls himself out of the pool to follow Ian, shaking his head incredulously.

As soon as he gets inside the men’s bathroom Ian puts a wet hand on his chest, cutting off his “What the f-“  and pushes him back against the wall, which is  actually surprisingly warm.

They kiss heavily for only a minute before Ian drops to the floor and tugs at Mickey’s dripping swim shorts needily. The fabric is clinging to his wet skin.

Mickey’s boner finally bounces free from the swim shorts it’s been straining against.

Ian takes the wet cock into his mouth, wrapping his lips around it lovingly. Mickey tips his head back and breathes out shakily, reaching a hand down to hold the back of Ian’s dripping head tenderly.

Ian moves expertly, wasting no time he works Mickey the exact way he knows will make him explode.

He does explode within minutes, down Ian’s throat, who hums proudly upon feeling it.

“Your turn?” Mickey asks, licking his lips appreciatively.

Ian doesn’t answer but pushes Mickey downwards, who doesn’t protest. He actually loves when Ian gets a little rough and assertive with him.

Ian takes even less time to cum than Mickey did, but to be fair he was already straining to keep from orgasming while he blew Mickey earlier, the possibility of getting caught exciting him even more.

Ian slides down to the floor when he’s finished and lands beside Mickey happily, who teasingly pulls on some of his ginger leg hairs.

This earns him a responding light and playful jab from Ian, before he pulls Mickey in for an appreciative kiss.

Example of a Pride dance party!

...and the actual pool at the Grand (where this takes place) :)


	9. But You Love Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to dedicate one chapter to the sad reality of the harassment many people still endure just because of their sexuality after some hate graffiti recently was done in TO. I think Shameless does a very good job of showing that with Mickey's dad, and I think it will always impact how he sees himself so I wanted to incorporate that into this story at least once, because it is after all, about Pride. I will post the next chapter soon, which is lighter like the rest of the story :)

“Jesus” Mickey looks directly downwards from the expansive window to the bustling city streets, that are so far below them.

Ian had let Mickey choose what they would do the next day and he had shrugged as if it were obvious where they should go, “CN Tower. Then we can go back to the Pride thing”.

Ian leans his weight against the slanted glass, laying on it. It looks like he is falling directly downwards as he looks out from the glass and it gives him a head rush.

“ _Fuck, Ian_!” He feels a hand roughly pull him back upwards.

He meets Mickey’s concerned eyes and laughs, “Mick you know how thick this glass is? They built it for this shit”.

“Yeah well you never know. Shit happens” Mickey warns, looking at the glass with distrust.

“This was your idea”, Ian reminds him.

“Yeah to come and look! Not pull some daredevil shit. Let’s go back to the Village”.

Mickey must really be nervous to suggest cutting the trip short to go back to Pride but Ian doesn’t argue, and just smirks to himself over Mickey’s concern. It’s cute.

His mood improves substantially on the way back, as they take the TTC.

It’s like the El back home, just underground. Wellesley station lets out right where the Festival is and as soon as they walk out from the station doors they are once again enveloped into a crowd.

Ian takes Mickey’s hand and they walk down the street happily, looking for a booth to grab a drink at, when all of a sudden, they hear angry shouting.

_“Fags! Get out of our city fags!”  “Being gay is a sin!”  “You’re fucking disgusting!”._

The boys halt in surprise at the protest that is arranged in the street, coming up to it so suddenly.

 Homophobes and bible thumpers with signs are yelling at the people walking past, spitting and cursing.

Ian rolls his eyes and expects Mickey to roll up his sleeves and head over to knock some teeth out, but instead he is surprised to feel Mickey drop his hand.

He looks over at Mickey in confusion, and sees that his smile has been absolutely wiped from his face. His eyes are widened while he stares at the protestors, his mouth slightly open.

His eyes are so sad looking, but before Ian gets a chance to say anything to him, a much larger group of gays and allies surrounds them and to push back against the protestors, cutting him off.

_“This is our city too! Love is love!”   “Get out of here go hate at home!”   “Gay Pride!”_

 The crowd pushes back more and more, radiating positivity and strength as a solid unit.

Ian beams, joining in to flip the protestors off, but Mickey still hasn’t moved. He appears to just be locked in place, his mind somewhere completely different from the protest in front of them.

The protestors finally break and scatter and the street erupts with cheers, and everyone is ready to return to their celebrations.

Ian looks at Mickey, who had been so comfortable just moments before, with his guard completely down, walking hand in hand with his boyfriend.

“Let’s go” he finally mutters, snapping out of his trance.

Ian wants to argue, saying they just got there, but as he looks at his boyfriend with disappointment he sees a glimmer of the old angry and scared Mickey flash across his face, and decides against it, realizing exactly where Mickey’s mind had gone while he stood there and got yelled at.

He thinks back to that horrible day Mickey’s dad caught them together and pistol whipped Mickey within an inch of his life for being gay.

The good mood has entirely returned to the festival but Mickey is sullen and silent and Ian feels awful inside. He walks home with Mickey quietly.

 

\---Later that night---

 

Mickey hears water rushing from the faucet into the tub, “You running a bath Ian?”

“Yeah bubbles and everything, get in here” Ian swirls the water in the tub, making the bubbles froth upwards, and lowers himself in gently. 

“I ain’t had a bath since I was a kid” Mickey complains, but appears in the bathroom doorway anyways.

Ian laughs, “This is completely different. And this tub is huge, big enough for both of us. Get in here”.

Mickey doesn’t argue, still subdued from earlier, he drops his clothes to the bathroom floor, and then joins Ian in the bath. Hot water splashes gently against his skin and the scent of eucalyptus from the bubbles greets his nose. 

“That feels pretty good”.

“I know, right?” Ian massages his shoulders gently for a while.

Mickey moves behind Ian in the tub to do the same for him, but Mickey’s quietness begins to gnaw at Ian.

“Those protestors today, that was pretty fucked up”.

Mickey snorts, “They should meet Terry. They’re fucking kittens compared to him” but his voice gets quiet as he says the last part.

Ian knows that these things eventually have to come up, or they eat away at someone. “Mickey, I’m really sorry you grew up with that asshole. You deserved better”.

“It doesn’t matter” Mickey answers, obviously trying to avoid the conversation.

But Ian doesn’t want him to. “It does matter, can you imagine someone treating Yevgeny like that?”

Mickey shifts uncomfortably.

“Mick”, Ian asks gently, “Is that why you don’t try to get close to him? Do you think he won’t like you when he grows up and realizes you’re gay?”.

“No Ian, that’s not it at all. It’s just…I don’t even really think he’s my son man”.

Silence fills the bathroom for a moment.

“Well there’s a chance he is”.

Mickey’s hands have stopped massaging Ian’s back, “Ian it’s a very small chance. I never- I never finished when I was with her. Just said I did so Terry would let up”.

Ian doesn’t really know what to say at first but finally says gently, “does it really matter?”

Mickey considers the little blonde boy, the one he fights to distance himself from, but deep down was terrified of getting hurt by accident when Ian had a manic episode and ran off with him.

“No, it doesn’t. He’s still my son”.

Ian is surprised when Mickey goes back to the subject of Terry on his own accord, maybe finding it easier to talk while he’s staring at Ian’s back, instead of his eyes.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is. I like what I like. I didn’t rub it in anyone’s face. I don’t need all these rainbows and shit...no offence to Pride, but he still fucking hated me man. He always hated me, but he hated me even more when he realized you and I were together”.

Mickey sounds miserable and it takes everything for Ian not to immediately turn around and try to comfort him but he doesn’t want this important conversation to end yet. Mickey had never really talked about this in such an open way.

“Mickey, I don’t think he hated you before, I think he’s just a scared asshole that felt threatened by you being gay, for whatever fucking reason”.

“No, he did Ian. I was the abortion my mom refused to get. He reminded me of that often enough” Mickey chuckles darkly from behind him but there’s no humor in it.

Ian finally wordlessly turns around in the bathtub to face Mickey, who quickly looks down, but not quickly enough for Ian to miss the redness in his eyes.

He reaches his arms out and pulls Mickey close in the warm water, bubbles pressing out from between their bodies.

He kisses Mickey’s wet shoulder. He doesn’t know what to say.

But what Ian didn’t realize was that he didn’t really have to say anything. As he held Mickey close, the sadness inside him began to absolve, and was replaced with the warm feeling of love.

In Mickey’s eyes, Ian was the first person who ever wanted him. Who was ever really glad that he was alive.

And it meant everything to Mickey.


	10. Hot Confusion

The boys don’t even leave the hotel the next day, preferring to spend the morning lounging about their room together.

They rent two movies on the TV in their room and sit comfortably on the couch together, munching on snacks in front of the flat screen. Mickey tosses popcorn up towards the ceiling before catching each kernel in his mouth, the negativity from the day before now having abated.

Half the day passes by before Ian finally begins to pace around the room, starting to feel cooped up, “Let’s go swimming”.

“Again?” Mickey asks, but leans down to rummage in his bag, looking for his swim trunks.

“Yeah, but on the rooftop this time. Let’s check out the hot tubs that hotel lady mentioned when we checked in”.

That sounds fucking perfect to Mickey, and they head up to the roof together soon after for a couple hours.

The rooftop of the hotel is open for guests to enjoy, and it has a gazebo that offers shade during the day and two separate hot tubs bubbling away underneath the sky.

A projector juts out from the one end of roof and displays old school music videos onto a wall that has been turned into a screen across from it. There’s a great vibe up there.

It’s completely isolated away from the buzzing city below, and Ian and Mickey spend enough time up there to have some time while no other guests are there. They relish in having an entire hot tub to themselves.

The jets suddenly fizz out and Mickey groans, having enjoyed the hot tub jets massaging firmly into his shoulders as he slunk down in the hot tub.

“Ian”, he kicks lazily across the hot tub to where the lanky redhead is sitting, with his long arms draped around the edges of the hot tub. He raises his eyebrows at Mickey in response.

“Bubbles. Your turn”.

Ian doesn’t argue and hauls himself easily out of the hot tub and crosses the patio to hit the jets’ restart button. The hot tub comes to life again, fizzing and swirling.

Mickey watches Ian as he walks back over casually, the projector splaying images over his body and onto the screen behind him. Sometimes, in moments like this, he feels an ache in his chest realizing how much he loves Ian.

Ian drops back into the water and Mickey slides towards him slowly, while Ian watches with amusement.

“Oh no Ian...there’s a…shark!” Mickey reaches over and clamps one hand onto Ian’s arm.

“Blood in the water!” Ian hollers back playfully, and clamps Mickey in return “You messed with the wrong shark”.

“Well jeez I didn’t know you were a shark too, you ging-“

Ian grabs Mickey, cutting him off, and puts him a gentle headlock, rubbing his head with the palm of his hand. The two wrestle playfully for a little while until Mickey gives up and pushes Ian off gently.

“It’s too hot, need a cold beer”. He pulls himself up and out of the water, leaving his legs dangling lazily into the hot tub.

“I can sneak up a couple bottles?” Ian offers, “You wait here”.

“Sounds good” answers Mickey, rubbing some water out of his eyes.

Ian takes the elevator back to their room and while dripping, rummages in their bar fridge, pulling out two cold beers.

He empties a small backpack he brought by dumping its contents onto the floor and drops the beers inside, hearing them clink together.

He decides to take a piss before he heads back up to the roof, and takes his time returning, humming to himself.

An unexpected sight greets him as he steps back onto the open roof. Mickey is still up there, and he’s still at the hot tub, but he’s not alone anymore.

A busty brunette is in the hot tub with him, a tight bikini putting her impressive assets on display.

Ian freezes and takes in the scene.

She is very obviously hitting on Mickey, even though he can’t hear what they are saying he notices Mickey’s slight, almost undetectable grimace as she leans forward in the hot tub, making her chest fall more into Mickey’s direct view.

Mickey scratches his shoulder uncomfortably and looks away, and notices Ian standing there.

Ian takes this as his cue and amusedly arrives, dipping back into the hot tub as he hands one of the beers to Mickey and cracks open his own.

The brunette hesitates at the arrival of another attractive man.

“Hey babe” Mickey says, turning and pressing his flushed lips onto Ian’s. Ian knows he’s trying to prove a point as much as he just wants a kiss, but he doesn’t care and deepens the kiss anyways.

The brunette’s jaw drops open slightly, “You’re gay?” She then flushes, embarrassed by her blatant question. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just mean-“

Mickey shakes his head, “No it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I mean you’re a beautiful girl but, how could I not be gay… look at this fuckin guy” he says, gesturing at Ian.

She laughs, but gets out of the hot tub as she does so, obviously embarrassed and ready to leave.

As she heads back inside the hotel Ian turns to Mickey, “I don’t think she could have been more obvious unless she just took her top off and waved her tits in your face. She probably would have if I didn’t interrupt”.

Mickey smirks, “Yeah well I much prefer these tits” and he pinches Ian’s nipple playfully, who smacks his hand away and drifts to the opposite end of the hot tub, pushing his non-existent breasts together with his own hands.

“Oooh Mickey come feel me” he giggles, in a high falsetto voice.

 Mickey splashes water at his boyfriend, laughing. “Get your ass over here Gallagher, and I will”.

^ the setting 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is now winding down, so I'm going to find a way to write it the perfect ending before I focus on my next work, a more serious novella :)


	11. On Top of the World

On the very last night they have in Toronto before they catch their flight back to Chicago in the morning, the boys take the elevator down to the hotel lobby to get dinner together, after having spent the entire day exploring the sights of the city, and then making love slowly as soon as they got back to their room, enjoying every last moment of it.

Mickey heads straight towards the Citrus Restaurant once they reach the ground floor, but he stops when he notices Ian has hesitated to follow.

He looks back at Ian with his eyebrow raised, wordlessly inquiring why Ian wasn’t coming with him.

“Mick”, Ian says slowly, shifting his weight to his side, looking thoughtful, “Do you think tonight, for our last night, we could just go and get some street food?”

Mickey looks baffled, “You want that?”

Ian smiles back at him, “Yeah. I mean, this fancy stuff is great, but at the end of the day… I’m just a south side boy”. 

Mickey shakes his head slowly, “You’re not _just_ anything, Ian. You deserve all of this, all the fucking time, and that’s why I came here. But to be honest… some cheap food sounds fucking great”.

Mickey takes the hand Ian is offering to him with a grin and they end up back on Church street, where the heart of the festival takes place. After finding some barbecue stalls, they each get a rack of ribs and roasted corn on the cob to eat for dinner.

They carry their food over to an empty spot on the curb of the closed off street and sit there, eating without any reservation. They feel more comfortable, and more at home, just like this.

Just the two of them.

All of the special displays and stages are starting to come down on the last night of the Pride festival, and the boys quietly watch while they eat, but the village remains what it is. It’s not only okay with who they are, it celebrates who they are. And that's pretty fucking great.

“Mick?” Ian finally asks, after wiping his sauce covered fingers on his napkins, and then once more on his pants, now finished with his ribs.

Mickey looks over at him from behind his own food, and raises one eyebrow slightly, indicating Ian should go on.

“Are you glad you came with me?” Ian asks him seriously.

Mickey opens his mouth and then closes it, thinking about his words before he says them.

“Ian, I’d go anywhere with you. You know that right?”

Ian smiles, “Yeah, I do. I just wanted to know if you were glad”.

Mickey finally smiles back, his blue eyes are shining as he answers honestly, “Yeah Ian. I’m glad”.

 

Ian leans forward against the railing and crows into the dark night exuberantly. He is throwing his arms out freely to feel the wind catch them and buffet them upwards slightly, as if he is a bird catching warm, rising currents of air to gain height.

Mickey stands a few feet behind him, watching Ian take in the lit-up city with delight.

They are completely alone on the rooftop of the Grand hotel, high up above the streets it opens them to a full and unobstructed view of the twinkling city.

From this view, it sort of looks like a small New York, Mickey thinks, from the pictures he’s seen of it.

A massive spotlight is somewhere down there in the core, throwing a lazy beam of light up into the night sky, it sways across the buildings, illuminating each one it touches.

The wind is gently whipping over the roof every so often, and it catches Ian as he stands there, making his red hair flow, and his clothes ripple against his body softly.

He feels so fucking free.

Like he is on top of the whole damn world, and nothing can stop him.

It’s like being in one of his manic episodes except…except the feeling is real, and it’s not scary. It’s perfect.

He swallows hard at this last thought as Mickey approaches him from behind, like he can sense what Ian is thinking about.

He presses up against Ian’s back gently, and wraps his strong arms around him from behind, clasping his tattooed hands together as he rests his arms down by Ian’s hips.

Ian feels warm lips brush against his ear, and Mickey whispers, “ _I love you_ ”.

He turns around slowly in Mickey’s arms, and holds the familiar face in his hands for a moment as he faces him, searching those deep blue eyes.

If he could make a moment last forever, it would be this one.

Right here and right now.

Just him and Mickey, on top of the world.

**_EPILOGUE_** \---------------------------------------------

Late that night, deep in the South Side of Chicago, Carl Gallagher is sitting on top of the bunk beds in the boy’s bedroom.

He is thumbing through a magazine when he hears his phone vibrate.

He reaches across his bed to check his messages, and sees one lit up on the screen.

**FROM** : _Mickey_

Thanks.

Carl smiles to himself, and before he thinks of what to answer, his phone lights up again.

**FROM** : _Mickey_

:)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This fanfic was a pleasure to write. I appreciate the feedback and kudos a lot. I hope we get to see many more happy moments between Ian and Mickey on Shameless ❤ 
> 
> I would like to give credit for the tumblr art on this last chapter but I don't know the artist :(
> 
> ~Check out my new series "The Manifesto of Mickey Milkovich"


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